


Afterparty

by lyndysambora



Category: Bon Jovi (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 05:40:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20501807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyndysambora/pseuds/lyndysambora
Summary: It finally occurs to him that he's been passed out, as are all the other bodies here. After that, he becomes aware of another vague thought, that he can't remember ever having been this fucked up before, but it won't be for another several hours that he starts entertaining the notion that someone had spiked their drinks with something unexpected.





	Afterparty

Parts of his mind break the surface of consciousness before any part of his body will move. Eyes refusing to open just yet, Richie tries to piece together his circumstances; he is lying on his back, he knows that, and he's pretty sure he's still wearing his pants-- or wearing them again-- but he thinks he is barefoot and he's fairly certain he's naked from the waist up. 

The sounds of snoring surround him from all sides and from up above him. He figures this means he is on the floor, and as this thought registers, so does the fact of the carpet pile pressed into his back, making his skin itch. He's definitely on the floor, and the sound of the snoring in the otherwise quietness tells him the music had stopped at some point after everybody was asleep. Everybody. He has no idea how many people are here, but judging by the snores, he figures it's more than a few.

Feeling creeps into his body lazily, and Richie shifts a bit, tries to get comfortable. His arm is asleep and pinned by something (or someone) against the carpet. He manages to lift his eyelids a crack, but his head is turned away from the pinned arm, and he doesn't have it in him to move his head just yet. Multiple bodies litter his field of vision, both male and female, in varying states of undress. 

It finally occurs to him that he's been passed out, as are all the other bodies here. After that, he becomes aware of another vague thought, that he can't remember ever having been this fucked up before, but it won't be for another several hours that he starts entertaining the notion that someone had spiked their drinks with something unexpected. For now he just groans and tries to move his deadened arm again, to no avail.

He closes his eyes and the world spins around him, so he opens them again. He decides to move his head-- he can't stand looking at all these people right now. He has no actual memory of anything he did last night, but he swallows thickly against a rising feeling in his stomach that he has sampled more than a few of the people here, the men as well as the women. He pushes the thought from his clouded head for now, which is surprisingly easy, though the sick feeling persists. 

In the mean time, enough sensation has seeped into his neck for it to move, so he turns to face whatever, or whomever, is smashing his arm into the floor, and hopes like hell he can deal with the answer. Another groan, this one of relief, trickles from him when he realizes it is Jon. The other man is lying on his stomach, his face turned toward Richie, slack in its unconsciousness. Richie's arm is clutched under Jon's chest and arm, as though Jon has gathered it to him to hold for comfort. His hair is obscuring one eye, and he is likewise shirtless, though Richie can't yet move his head enough to see Jon's lower half.

Letting his eyelids droop again, Richie stares at Jon's sleeping face. His brain is awake enough now to understand that in probably less than an hour he will be hanging over the toilet, as will Jon. In maybe two hours he will begin to piece together some of the events from last night-- not everything, never everything, but enough to either give him relief or corroborate the anxiety in his belly. He closes his eyes again, wishing his arm wasn't numb so that he could feel Jon wrapped around it, because he already knows this contact, or the memory of it, is what will bring him through this day alive.

**END**


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